“I am growing extremely tired of your continued delivery of upsetting news,” the enraged red wyrmspeaker growls as he grabs the frightened messenger around the neck. “I can no longer stomach the sight of your face.” The Cult of the Dragon leader rips the throat out of the unfortunate courier, dropping him to the floor in a lifeless bloody mess.
Severin had just received news two more of his inner circle had been killed at the hands of a certain group of adventurers he was becoming more and more aware of. The troublesome band, working for the Waterdeep Council, had killed Varrum, the white wyrmspeaker, and Neronvain, the green wyrmspeaker. They had already disposed of Rezmir, the black wyrmspeaker, and fought off or killed a few dragons as well. He had vastly underestimated their power.
Looking to a rather large imposing red half dragon warrior in plate armor, Severin says menacingly, “They have meddled in my plans enough. I want them dealt with once and for all. Gather your team and strike mercilessly. Do not disappoint me.”